try to track you from something as innocuous as those, and probably be
able to do it. Say you subscribe to a small scholarly journal that
thirty or forty thousand people get. You better read somebody else's
copy, because while it might take years to physically look at everybody
on the subscription list, the Chinese are nothing if not patient. You
only have to make one mistake. Doctor, and you lose the game. Patrick
Morrison will have to die figuratively, or he will surely die
literally.'
Morrison stared at him. He hadn't thought it through to this end. But
as he heard Ventura speak, he knew what the man said was so. For a
moment, it took his breath away. How could he have been so
shortsighted?
'That's how it will have to be if you want to survive.
I can help you do it, point you in the right direction, tell you the
steps you have to take, but once you're set, I can't have any more
contact with you, either. They might want to convince me to tell them,
and better for you if I don't know your new name and face.'
'I didn't even think about the risk to you,' Morrison admitted.
'Don't worry about it. I've had people looking for me for a long time,
and I've managed to stay alive against the best. I came into this with
my eyes open, and I've been living on borrowed time for years. But
this is what you are facing. So the question you have to ask yourself
is. Does four hundred million dollars justify you becoming an entirely
new man? With that kind of money, there are places in the world where
you can live like a king, have luxury, sex, the power of life and
death--as long as you don't stick your head up too high and get
noticed.
There are men who have done this before, men of wealth and power who
had to go away for whatever reason, and they survived twenty, thirty,
fifty years, some of them.
Some of the ones who are very careful are likely still out there. The
careless are for sure dead.'
Morrison stared at the button, and a realization solidified in his
belly like a lump of cold steel. He said, 'It's already too late to
turn back, isn't it?'
Ventura gave him a thin smile.
'Truth? Yes.'
Morrison took a deep breath.
'Fuck it, then.'
He reached out and pushed the button.
PART TWO
All Problems Are Personal
Sunday, June 12th Washington, D.C.
At home. Jay came out of VR, took a deep breath, and removed his
headset and gloves. It had been a milk run, a visit to a library, and
no matter how skilled you were in creating scenarios, sooner or later,
reading a pile of material came down to reading a pile of material.
He had all he could find on Dr. Patrick Morrison, and while he had
skimmed it as it was being copied, he hadn't begun to take it all in.
From what he'd gleaned so far, the guy was legit enough. Degrees, work
